The Things We Forget
by T L Kay
Summary: John's finding out that there are parts of his life that were kept from him, and maybe for good reason. Short story about family and what it means to sacrifice. FINALLY FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1

John woke up with a start. He had had that same freaky dream again. He was three years old, playing at a playground with a little girl who couldn't be more than two. John was sure he knew this girl really well, but couldn't access who she was. His mother was sitting on a park bench on the other side of the jungle gym, talking to a man that John recognized, but again couldn't access. Suddenly a shadow fell over John and the girl. John turned and looked up into the cold metal face of a Terminator. The girl started crying, John yelled for help. He could hear his mother trying to get to them, but knew she would be too late. The metal monster reached down and grabbed John and the girl by their necks. John looked into those red eyes and knew it would be the end. Then suddenly the Terminator dropped John to the ground and took off with the girl. As John lay on the ground he saw his mother race past him, chasing after the Terminator, but it was too late, the girl was dead. He watched as his mother sank to the ground in despair and wondered who the girl had been. Then he would wake up.

John sat in his bed breathing deeply. This was the fourth night in a row he had had that dream, and he still hadn't told his mother. God only knew what she would read into it. She'd probably tell them they needed to move again.

John was startled out of his reverie by a creak on the floor outside of his room. He looked up to see Cameron standing in the doorway.

"I know you don't sleep," he said to her, "but could you ever just sit still for once?"

She cocked her head at him like a cat does when it's sizing you up, but she didn't answer. Instead she asked a question of her own. "Why do you wake in the middle of the night?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You are often awake when I pass by here during the night. You are also often perspiring and your breathing is shallow. Why?"

"It's called a nightmare."

"I don't understand."

"A bad dream?"

She cocked her head the other way, as if looking at him from a different angle would somehow explain what a dream was.

"Never mind," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's nothing. I'd like to go back to sleep now, so if you could move along, you're freaking me out."

Cameron looked at him for a few more moments before turning and silently striding away. When she was gone John smiled. She may have been a little weird sometimes, but she could be quite entertaining. And John could tell that she really did want to learn, which was why she asked so many annoying questions. He rolled over and settled back into his sheets, pondering what a Terminator would dream about if they could dream, and wondering if there was anything that could give them nightmares.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello John."

John turned around with a little flutter in his stomach. He knew it was dumb, she was at least 6 years older than him, but he couldn't help it, she had a weird effect on him.

"Hello Amy," he said, keeping it cool.

Amy was a college student majoring in secondary education; she was at John's high school for student teaching. He loved being around her. She was possibly the only person he felt comfortable around at school, which was ridiculous, because she didn't even go to his school.

"You look like hell," she said with a laugh.

John shrugged. "I didn't sleep well last night."

"Again?" she asked with concern.

John couldn't help smiling that she was concerned for him. "Yeah," he nodded. "It's all right though, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

John nodded again.

"Ok, then you better get to class; you don't want to be late."

John smiled. "Yeah, ok. See you later."

"And John," she said after him. "Feel better."

* * *

"You're late," said Sarah as the kids came up to the car. She had been waiting there for nearly half an hour, her usual panic rising up in her.

"John was talking to a girl," said Cameron.

Sarah wheeled around to glare at her son. "A girl?" John knew the rules.

"Not a girl, a teacher," he said, directing his frustration at Cameron. He had run into Amy again after school, she had asked a question, it would have been rude not to talk to her. "Am I not allowed to talk to teachers anymore? Cause if that's a new rule I might as well just stop going to school."

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm mister," Sarah said as she pulled the car out of the school driveway. She sighed. "So why were you talking to this teacher?"

"I need a reason now?" John knew he was being disrespectful, but he really didn't care right now. He was so sick of all the damn rules.

"John," his mother said sternly.

"Fine, she wanted to talk to me about my options."

"Options?"

John sighed. "Yeah, you know, college and stuff."

"Oh John…" she started.

"I know. I know that I don't have options, but it's nice to pretend every now and then."

Sarah nodded but didn't say anything. She knew what he was going through. She had had these thoughts for him since before he was born. She glanced into the back seat at Cameron; the Terminator was being unusually quiet.

"Anyway," said John after a moment. "I'm sorry I was late. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"I know. So…which teacher was it? One that I know?"

John shook his head. "No, she's new. She's a student teacher."

Sarah glanced at her son with a small smile. Maybe there was a bit of a "girl" aspect as well. "Is she cute?"

"Mom," he groaned. No 16-year-old boy wants to talk to his mother about a girl, especially one who's 6 years older and would never look at him that way.

"Fine. So tell me a bit about her."

"She's like 22, studying education…"

"Her name?"

"Oh, right. Amy Hasters."

"What?" Sarah asked harshly, turning to look at him for so long that she started to swerve off the road.

"Mom!"

Sarah turned back to the road and got the car back under control. John was staring at his mother like she was a crazy person; Cameron was observing it all with intrigue.

"Mom what the hell is going on!?"

Sarah was breathing heavily, she was in complete shock. She had never expected to hear that name ever again. They had arrived back at home and she parked the car and went into the house without a word.

"Is this kind of behavior normal for your people?" Cameron asked.

John looked back at the robot. "For most humans? No. For her?" He glanced in the direction his mother had stormed. "For her yeah, it's normal."


	3. Chapter 3

"Mom? You wanna tell me what's going on?" John asked from outside his mother's door. When she didn't answer he tapped lightly again and pushed the door open. It was as he expected. His mother's suitcases lay around her room half-full; she was planning on running again.

"Pack your bags," she said from her seat on the bed, her back to him.

"No."

She twisted to look at him. "John…"

"No you listen to me," he said, anticipating what she was going to say. "You keep telling me that I need to become strong, I need to stand up and lead. Well now I am. You're going to unpack, we're not going anywhere. And you're going to tell me what the hell is going on."

To his great surprise his mother smiled at him. "All right."

John breathed a sigh of relief; he had been so sure he was going to be in trouble.

"Come here."

John went over and sat next to his mother. She was holding a tattered, faded photograph.

"There are some things that you don't know John. And I know I should have told you, but you have to believe I was trying to protect you. Both of you," she added as she handed over the photo.

John looked down at it and his mouth dropped open. It was like someone had taken a still of his dream. There was a little boy—him—and a little girl playing at a park.

"I know her," he whispered. He found himself telling Sarah all about his recurring dream. "Who is she?" he asked.

Sarah took a deep breath. "She's your sister John. Her name is Amy Hasters. Your teacher is your baby sister."

* * *

John still couldn't believe it. He'd had hours to let it sink in and it was still too much. He had a sister. He was so furious at his mother. How could she have kept this kind of thing from him? In his fifteen years he had been through all kinds of hell, and he could anticipate much more down the road, didn't she think he would need some kind of support system? Sure he had his mom, but sometimes that wasn't enough. He thought about the feeling of content he had in his dream—before the Terminator appeared—and he knew that he had been happy with his sister, truly happy. More so than he had ever been in his life. Now he understood why he had been so drawn to her at school. She was a part of him that he had never known was missing.

Sure Sarah had explained, and John even understood a little, but he was still pissed. She told him that shortly after he had been born she had gone to live with an old friend who she knew would take care of them. They had stayed there for several years and John's sister had been born when he was just over one. For awhile they had lived like a family, but Sarah started getting restless, just like she did every time they were in one place for awhile. She knew that they couldn't stay, it just wasn't safe. She and John were condemned to a life of constant running, but it wasn't fair to drag someone else into that. So Sarah had made one of the hardest decisions of her life. She and John packed up their things and she left her precious baby girl and never looked back.

John sat on the bed in his room going over and over the story he had just been told, staring down at the picture in his hands. This just couldn't be happening. It was too much. How much could one person be expected to go through without losing their mind?

John sighed. He knew what he had to do, but that didn't make it any easier. He got up from his bed, went over to his desk and turned on his computer. He opened the internet to the familiar search engine page and typed in "Amy Hasters."


	4. Chapter 4

"You should not be leaving."

John froze, one foot dangling out his window, one foot still planted firmly on his chair. He turned slightly to see Cameron standing in his doorway.

"Damn it, I thought I locked that," he mumbled.

The machine glanced at the door knob then back at John. "You did," she said matter-of-factly.

John grimaced. "We'll talk about your invasion of my privacy later; right now I have to go before my mom finds out."

"But you should not be leaving. It could be very dangerous."

"You're going to tell on me, aren't you?"

Cameron just looked at him.

"Fine," he said, and he could have sworn she smiled slightly, perhaps happy that she had won. "Fine, you're coming with me." He made sure to say it as a command, so that she would have to listen.

"Come on," he said. "Shut the door behind you and let's get going."

* * *

"John, Cameron, what are you doing here?"

Now that he was here, standing on her porch John didn't really know what to say. And it didn't help that she was holding an infant in her arms.

"John?" Amy said again.

He cleared his throat. "I wanted to talk to you about something, but I've realized it can wait."

"No, it's fine, come in." She ushered John and Cameron into her living room. "Dan," she called.

A man entered from the kitchen.

"John, Cameron, this is my fiancé, Dan, and our daughter, Sarah."

John was already feeling uncomfortable, but froze when he heard the little girl's name.

"Will you take her and put her down?" Amy asked her husband.

Dan nodded, scooped the girl into his arms and left the room. Amy sat down across from John.

"So what's on your mind?"

John had no idea what to say. He shouldn't be here, he knew that now. He couldn't tell her, and he now had no excuse for why he had come.

"You know what, it's really not that important."

Amy sighed. "John, I know what it's like to want to ask something but be afraid to. So I'll tell you what. Ask your question, and I promise I'll answer, and I won't even ask why you want to know. How's that?"

John looked away to buy himself a little time, he still didn't quite know what to ask her. And then his eyes fell on the picture behind her. A cute, happy family in a picture clearly taken in one of those little photo studios inside a grocery store. John sighed as he looked at a much younger version of his mother, before stress and terror and changed her so much. She could have been happy there, John knew.

He turned back to Amy and knew what he was going to ask.

"I wanted to know about your family." He nodded toward the picture.

"Oh." Amy smiled, but it was a sad smile. She leaned across the back of the chair and picked up the photo. She handed it to John and smiled again. "That's me when I was two or so, my father George, my mother Sarah and my brother John. He was a year older than me."

"It's a beautiful picture," said John, handing it back.

Amy nodded. "Yeah, it is." She sighed again. "We were a happy family, or so I've been told. My mother left us before I even turned three; she took my brother with her. It took me awhile to fully understand what had happened. My father told me that she left to protect us."

John took a sharp breath, maybe he wouldn't need to tell her. Maybe she already knew.

Amy shook her head. "He told me that there were people chasing my mother and brother. Bad people who wanted to hurt them. I tried to grasp what a three-year-old boy could possibly have done to warrant being chased down like an animal, but my father assured me that they had done nothing wrong; the people chasing them were just ruthless.

"When I turned ten my mom sent me a birthday card with a long letter inside. She said much the same as my father had, told me that leaving was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do, and that she and my brother loved me and missed me very much." Amy sighed again, and this time there were tears in her eyes.

"You know what, that's fine," said John. "You don't have to keep going, I'm sorry I asked."

Amy laughed. "Will you stop that? It's ok, I haven't spoken about this in awhile and I realize now that I have to."

John nodded. "Ok."

Amy nodded too and cleared her throat. "Right, well, when I was fourteen I remember coming home from school one day and finding my dad sitting in the living room watching the news…and sobbing."

John knew what was coming.

"My dad sat me down and told me that it was over. I had no idea what he was talking about at first. Then he told me that my mother and brother were dead. Just like that. He told me that the people who were chasing them had finally caught them, and they had died in a bank explosion. It was hard, mourning someone I had never really known, but I managed." She sighed again, but when she continued speaking it was happier.

"When Dan and I found out we were having a girl I knew I had to name her after my mother. I couldn't name her anything else. And when I met you John, well, you reminded me of my brother, what I can remember of him. I guess that's why I've taken such an interest in you." She laughed. "You know I haven't told anyone about my family since I met Dan."

She looked at John more closely. "I hope that answered your question."

John shifted uncomfortably and exchanged a glance with Cameron. "Yeah, well, I just, you know…" he tried to form a coherent sentence that would explain why he had asked her about her family.

"John," she said, cutting him off. "I told you I wouldn't ask why, and I meant it. It's really ok." She smiled at him again and he couldn't help but smile back.

He glanced around her quaint little living room, the photos of his niece, of their cute little family, and his face fell.

"Well, we really should get going," he said, glancing at Cameron again. "Sorry to interrupt your evening."

Amy rose to walk them to the door. "It's fine. See you at school."

John nodded. "Yeah, at school."

The door closed behind them and John pulled his picture from his pocket, staring at the two little children, so happy at the playground.

"Why did you not tell her who you are?" Cameron asked. "Is that not why we came here?"

John shook his head and started to walk away from the house. "You wouldn't understand."

"Please explain it to me."

John smiled slyly at her. Damn that curiosity of hers. His face became serious again as he pondered it. "My mother left her for a reason," John finally said. "And I understand that now. I've been doomed to a life of running and subsequently so has she. But it's not right for us to drag anyone else into this mess." He looked at the picture again before tucking it back in his pocket. "Sometimes it's just best to forget."

"Is it really that easy to forget something?" she asked.

John marveled at the robot. Sometimes she had this eerie insight into his mind.

"No, it's not that easy. If I could just throw a switch in my brain believe me I would. And I'll never truly forget. I'll always know that there was something I lost, and that's what will keep me going. If I want to save Amy from disaster, save her family, I have to stop things like you from ever being created."

Cameron cocked her head to the side in that catlike way she had. "Sometimes we must forget…in order to remember?"

John smiled and nodded. "I couldn't have put it better myself."

_FIN_


End file.
